The Legend of Korra: Night of the Owls
by Gr4veM1nd
Summary: "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time..." Avatar Korra has faced many challenges since she joined the Spirit World with the physical realm. Now she faces threats both old and new, and they could be her most dangerous opponents yet! She will have to forge new alliances to protect those she loves. But, as someone once said, all it takes is one bad day.


"_Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time. Watching from a hallowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. Speak not a word about them, or they'll send the Talon for your head." - _From the "Court of Owls" nursery rhyme

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><p><em><strong>Book 1: Beware…<strong>_

_**Chapter 1: On Leather Wings**_

Every Saturday, the _Republic City Gazette _includes a small life-styles piece called "Republic City Is." In the column, random citizens of the capital city are asked to complete the sentence "Republic City is…" using three words or less. When the city was taken over by Amon and his Equalist forces, the paper turned into a propaganda platform for the organization, complete with a new title called _The Equalist Gazette_. The paper quickly returned to its previous title when the city was liberated by Avatar Korra. But during its time as Equalist propaganda, however, the _Gazette _still kept to its tradition of including its weekly life-styles piece.

Here were some words used to describe Republic City during Amon's time as ruler:

"Bedlam."

"Cruel."

"Intimidating."

"Republic City is murderous."

"Republic City is fear."

Some even used names and organizations in some cases, all with different implications and meanings. These were mostly meant as harmless jokes, but some had deeper connotations in their messages. For example, "Republic City is Amon," could have implied his position of power over the city. "Republic City is the Equalists," possibly meant that fairness came at a price, especially regarding the harsh treatment of Benders.

Today, the citizens of Republic City have changed their tune. Now, the column is filled with entries such as, "Republic City is hope," and "Republic City is back." Of course, the column has also included messages like "Republic City is the Avatar," and "Republic City is Korra." These choices were obviously published as thanks to the city's liberator, the one bender who can master of all four elements, and believed to bring balance to the world.

_Korra. _Even reading her name was sickening. The Lieutenant grumbled under his breath and crumpled the newspaper into a ball before he threw it away. The crumpled paper hit the opposite wall of his cell. _Korra. _Even in prison, he couldn't escape that name.

Of course, he deserved to be locked up in here. After their great leader was outed as a Bender himself, the former Equalist Lieutenant had little to live for. He was left to die under that pile of debris. When the police found him, he was a broken mess, crippled mentally and physically. There was little else he could do but admit to his wrongful actions and spend the rest of his days rotting in a Republic City prison cell.

That did not mean the Lieutenant fancied the idea of uniting the Equalists again, however. After word got out that Amon had died like the fraud that he was, the Equalists went into hiding. Any other high ranking members either went into exile or wound up in prison like himself. That, or they ended up dead anyway. There was no point in coming back. Not after what Korra did. When he heard about Korra bridging the Spirit Word with the physical realm, however, that certainly ruined any chance of a possible comeback from the Equalists. The world adored Korra now. _Both _worlds. Any attempt to rally supporters would be immediately halted in its tracks.

A gentle rapping on his jail cell door brought him out of this train of thought. He let out a muttered grumble of frustration. "I said I wanted no visitors!" The Lieutenant shouted, not even turning to see who was there to greet him.

"Come now, Lieutenant," a familiar voice chimed. "Is that how you greet your most trusted, esteemed leader now? Your time in prison has changed you."

The Lieutenant straightened up immediately upon hearing that voice. He knew that voice. He turned around slowly, his lower lip trembling at the thought of who that voice could possibly belong to.

"I… I don't believe it," the Lieutenant gasped. "A… Amon!?"

The hooded man smiled beneath his mask, the light just barely giving his form away. Something was different about him, his mask in particular. He still wore the same dark red hooded tunic, but he no longer wore the decorated mask he had when he lead the Equalists. It was completely chalk white, worn and cracked slightly. It also bore a heavy resemblance to the head of an owl, the lower half of the face looking like a small beak. From where the Lieutenant stood, it almost looked like the mask was _smiling _at him.

The Lieutenant squinted and fumbled over to his cell door to get a better look at him. _Must be a trick of the light_, he thought. All this time locked up in this cell must be making him crazy. He would not be surprised if that was the case.

"Why are you here," he asked. "I thought you-"

"Died?" Amon finished with a low chuckle. "I thought that too."

Amon began to pace back and forth along his cell, his owl-like mask piercing daggers into the Lieutenant's soul.

"You know," Amon began. "I've learned a lot when I was gone. Being dead for so long can be very… enlightening. It's a lot like therapy. You learn so much about yourself. Do you want to know what _I _learned while I was dead, Lieutenant?"

The Lieutenant gulped at Amon's question. Either his time in prison was _really _getting to him or he had finally gone insane. He regained his composure and scowled at the apparent hallucination. "Why are you here, Amon?" He asked again, his voice growing impatient. "You left me to die! You left us _all _to die! The Equalists are nothing but a joke now! The Equalist cause is _dead _because of you!"

Amon rolled his eyes under his mask and chuckled again as his Lieutenant went on. He stopped his pacing and clasped his hands behind his back. His slow, gradual stop silenced him from continuing his tirade.

"That is correct," he replied. "And that is why I've come back. The Equalists are all one… big… joke. It's time to start over, and you're one last loose end that needs tying up."

The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow and glared at his former commander. He raised his fists up defensively, ready to take him on if need be. He might be without his Eskrima sticks, but he could still fight! "You won't get away with this," he shouted. "I can still fight you!"

Amon chuckled again. "I didn't say anything about fighting you, Lieutenant,"

With that, Amon simply waved the Lieutenant off and walked away. "All I said was that you were one last loose end in my new plans for this city," he explained. "As you said… the Equalists are one big joke. So I'm starting back at square one. Farewell, Lieutenant. Your time is over."

By the time Amon had made his way down the hall, the Lieutenant was shouting for the guards. "G-Guards! Guards!" He shouted, his voice echoing down the empty prison cells. "Guards! Come quickly! There's- HURK!"

Something sharp pierced through the back of his neck before he could go on any further. The Lieutenant stumbled and tripped over himself, leaning against the cell door as the knife's owner stood over his trembling body. It was an imposing silhouette, with rows of knives running along its dark garments. It stared at the Lieutenant with its large, owl-like eyes glowing in the darkened room like a predator spying its downed prey.

The Lieutenant shook and gasped as he struggled to remain conscious. He saw the avian-garbed assassin brandish a new knife, this one larger than the other, ready and intent to deal the killing blow. Then, the assassin spoke.

_**"Lieutenant," **_the assassin said in a low and raspy whisper. _**"The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die!"**_

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><p>Winter in Gotham. The worst time of year to be at the Falcone Shipyards. It was colder than Mr. Freeze's heart out here on nights like this.<p>

Killer Croc hated these kinds of nights. He was sure the rest of these clown goons hated it even more. The cold almost made the hulking reptilian brute regret taking Harley Quinn's offer to assist Joker's gang on this smuggling job. But Harley promised the pay would be well worth it. But judging by how the clowns fumbled their way clumsily in their search for the loot, even Croc was having his doubts by now. Harley could barely keep the gang together, which was no surprise at all. How the hell could she expect them to find a marked shipping container, let alone operate normally without their true leader?

"This kit better be worth it, Quinn," Croc grumbled. "I might be cold-blooded, but that don't mean I like freezing my tail off out here."

"Aww, quit your whining, Crocky," Harley reassured with her usual overly-chipper demeanor. "This'll be worth it, trust me! Besides! You never had a tail to begin with!"

Croc mumbled under his breath and snarled in frustration. That was just an expression. "Let's just hope we find it soon," he told her. "All this waitin' around is making me… _hungry_." He let out a sharp hiss and licked his lips at the thought. He could go for some fresh meat right about now… _human _meat. There was a particularly tasty-looking morsel operating the crane above them. It would certainly beat the frozen chicken he normally got back at Arkham, that was for sure.

The crane brought a heavy container up from the ship and over to the rest of them for inspection. Harley tilted her head and squinted, seeing if it had the proper markings on the side. Her mouth formed a wide grin at the marking. "This is it," she declared to Croc, who only rolled his eyes at her excitement. She then pulled out an overly-large walkie-talkie. "You can drop it now," she yelled into the communicator. "We got it!"

The crane operator let out a beleaguered sigh on the other line. Despite his single verbal protest, the crane detached its haul in front of the two. The container hit the ground with a dull _THUD! _Dust and snow erupted below the large, blue shipping crate. Harley could barely contain her excitement, even as the rest of her goons struggled in vain to open the thing. She kept her grin as she turned to Croc's massive form. "You're up, Killer! Do your thing!"

Croc growled and cracked his neck. "This better be worth the wait," he muttered. He approached the giant crate, hissing and growling for the others to get out of the way. The shaking goons quickly obliged, skittering back to their Harlequin leader. Croc sneered upon inspecting the heavy lock. He scoffed at such feeble attempts. He cracked safes harder than this.

With a mighty heave, Croc pried opened the massive container. The heavy doors came off with ease, creaking and scraping against itself before snapping off entirely. The twin doors flew off to the sides, causing more of Harley's goons to scatter out of the way to avoid their heads getting chopped clean off. Harley herself, however, did not move an inch, even as her Puddin's loyal henchmen cowered behind their co-leader in crime.

Croc squinted his eyes as he peered inside the dark container. Not much was inside, save for a set of wooden crates and the ship's cargo manifest. "You sure this is it?" Croc asked with a hiss and a snarl.

Harley giggled and cartwheeled past Croc's side, skipping and giggling with glee as she made her way over to her prize, courtesy of her hulking reptilian muscle. She pulled out her large hammer from her back, using the handle to prop the top of the crate open. Croc's eyes widened at its contents, illuminating his darkened face in a tempting and warm purple. The whole container was lit as Harley reached in to grab one of the glowing items. The Joker's henchwoman presented a glass jar holding what looked like a small piece of jungle vine. The piece of greenery looked almost alive, despite not being anywhere near whatever tree it was plucked from. It pulsed with a glowing purple light, the aura encasing the plant.

Croc snarled and cocked an eyebrow at Harley as she ogled the jarred vine like it was some sacred treasure. "Th' heck is that supposed to be," the hulking reptile asked. "Looks like somethin' out of Ivy's garden."

Harley giggled in response and placed the jar back in the crate. "It's what we came here for, silly," she explained simply before she pulled out her walkie-talkie again. "Load 'em inta' the truck, boys," she ordered her men. "We're on a tight schedule!"

She lowered the communicator and put her hands on her hips, her ever-present grin on her face as always. Croc snarled and hissed in impatience as he waited for Harley's goons to start coming in and moving the crates out. However, the clowns never came. Harley scrunched her face and let out a huff of aggravation. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Croc and Harley exchanged a brief glance at each other. That silence wasn't good. That silence only meant one thing.

_He _was here.

"I'll go check it out," Croc told Harley. "Stay here and guard the loot."

"Sure thing- Hey! I'm s'pose ta' be the one givin' the orders here! This is _my _operation!"

Croc turned back and glared at Harley again. "And _you _didn't check to make sure we were followed," he shot back with a hiss, now standing between whoever was out there and the loot. "Now, if you excuse me… it's feedin' time."

Croc sniffed at the cold air. He could smell the scents of fallen goons, but they were all missing. Even the guy on the crane had vanished from his post. "C'mon… where are you?" Croc muttered, taking one step forward before he found his answer.

A blackened figure had found its way onto the shipping container and jumped onto Croc. Its long cloak spread into large bat-like wings. The figure latched itself onto Croc's back and swung its fists down into his neck. Croc roared and keeled over in pain, his arms flailing to try and toss the figure off. Croc finally managed to get a hold of his attacker with both hands and threw the assailant off. The black silhouette flew backwards before it managed to correct itself in the air and land back on its feet, its large bat wings catching in the air and allowing it to slowly descend back to Terra Firma.

"You're getting desperate, Croc," Batman said as he stood back up. "You were making more money when you were just an enforcer for Black Mask. Why sign up with Harley?"

"Killing you is payment enough, Batman," Croc declared. He let out a mighty roar and charged at him, determined to take out this caped nuisance once and for all!

Batman was prepared for this, taking out his grapple gun and firing it upwards. The cable flew through the air, its hook latching onto the crane arm above him. Batman ascended quickly just before Croc could tackle him, instead hitting the crane's metal support beam. The impact dented the metal, generating a loud _CLANG! _Croc began to see stars for a moment before he shook it off, spinning back around with low grunt. Batman flipped in the air and landed next to one of the ripped doors of the shipping container, his cable returning to his grapple gun.

"So, how did you find us?" Croc asked, his smirk showing his sharpened teeth. "Was it my size? My stench? Or was it Harley's annoying nails-on-chalkboard of a voice?"

"Hey!" Harley protested, her voice coming from the container. "My voice don't sound annoyin'! Er... does it?"

"None of the above, actually," Batman replied. "But they did help in tracking you two down."

"Not that we needed it," Another voice added, its owner flipping in the air before landing on top of the shipping container. "You two are bulls in a china shop on your own!" He was dressed as a sort of acrobat, wearing sort of lightly armored black leotard. The symbol of a blue bird was displayed proudly across his chest, its wingspan going as far as his shoulders. He also wore a domino mask, covering only his eyes. He was also wearing the smuggest grin on his face. "I took care of the mooks for you," Nightwing said. "Need a hand with Big and Stinky over here?"

"No," Batman answered simply before turning his attention back to Croc. Croc snarled in frustration, his mouth starting to foam as well. He was doing his best to intimidate. Batman met this feral gaze with a fearful glare of his own, standing still and remaining motionless as Croc reared himself for his next attack. He wasn't afraid of this cannibal.

"Ooooookay," Nightwing said slowly. "How about I just stay back and watch?" He jumped off the container into a flip before he landed gracefully on the ground. He kept his smirk and leaned against the wall, intent on seeing how this played out.

Harley's lips curved into an evil grin as Nightwing landed in front of her, just outside the container. She dared not make a sound and prepared to take out the pretty boy vigilante with a well-timed sneak attack. She readied herself for the attack, but suddenly met Nightwing's fist, falling backwards from the offhand backhand. Nightwing went back leaning against the wall of the container casually, wearing that smug smirk as always.

Croc, however, was not happy. He let out another roar and charged at Batman, his large arms extended out and intent on ripping the Bat in two. Batman countered by stepping down on the broken container door beside him. The bent piece of aluminum metal stood upright, catching Croc in the stomach. Croc grunted and gasped for air, the sudden stop of inertia literally taking the wind right out of him. He was so concerned with catching his breath, he didn't see the black boot strike him across his face. That boot belonged to Nightwing! The former Robin had decided to step in finally, running up the bent door and jumping off the end like a stepping ramp. His kick sent Croc spinning, reeling to the side from the blow. He glanced up and glared at the two heroes, growling at them as his vision was blurred, his head still spinning in a daze.

Batman and Nightwing finished the reptilian brute together, running up to Croc to deliver a powerful double jump-kick to his chest. Croc grunted in pain as he staggered backwards into a tall stack of shipping containers. He slammed into the stack, the force strong enough to send two down right on top of him. Croc had no time to react as the containers dropped onto him like a ton of bricks. The impact was enough to knock him out, leaving him pinned against heavy steel and aluminum casing.

"I had him," Batman said.

"Oh, so that makeshift ramp _wasn't _meant for me?" Nightwing quipped. "Aww, I can hear my heart breaking just a tiny bit."

"Where's Harley?"

The fellow culprit in question came running out of the shipping container, carrying her large mallet over her shoulder and intent on clobbering the two over their heads! Nightwing caught her attack again with another offhand backhand, sending Harley back down again. "She's taken care of." He replied.

Batman remained silent and went over to inspect the container's contents while Nightwing handled up on cuffing Harley. He looked down into the open crate and grabbed one of the rounded glass jars with one of the vines. The purple light it gave off illuminated his masked face in the dark container. He narrowed his eyes as he watched its aura pulse slowly before he draped it under his cape for further evidence. He turned back and returned to Nightwing, who had just finished apprehending Harley.

"Are we done here?" Nightwing asked.

Batman ignored Nightwing's question, making a beeline for Harley Quinn instead. Nightwing scrunched his face at this. He knew what was about to start. "...guess not." Nightwing muttered.

"Why were you after these plants?" Batman asked.

"Wouldn't you like ta' know, Bat Brain," Harley spat. "It's not like Mistah J can get these little guys from Ivy! They're too rare!"

Batman squinted his eyes into a menacing glare at Harley. "Joker's been missing for six months," he told her. "What was he planning to do with the plants?"

"Now where's the fun in that, B-Man," Harley shot back with a mischievous grin. "Ya can't have a joke when ya know the punchline!"

Batman glared again. He wasn't getting anything out of her now. There was no point in questioning any further. "Nightwing, make sure the police are on their way," he said. "I'll be in touch." With that, Batman left the docks, grappling off into the winter night of Gotham City.

Nightwing was left with Harley. He kept her still as she struggled to escape. "Yeah, sure," he muttered again, watching his old mentor swing off into the cold night. "Guess I'll see you back at the Cave."

"Does he always leave ya ta' do all the dirty work, Bird Boy?" Harley asked as she struggled in her restraints. "Mistah J does that ta' me all the time. Maybe you an' me ain't so different after- oomph!"

Nightwing swiftly shut her up with a light smack against the back of her head. "You know what? Croc was right," he said. "Your voice _is _annoying."


End file.
